The Gift
by Mirkwoodmaiden
Summary: It's 2611 TA. Legolas, on the day he is about to come of age as a Warrior, reflects back on events that have shaped his choices in life.


The Gift  
  
Legolas woke up. The soft morning breeze filled his room on the outer circles of his father, King Thranduil's halls. He could not sleep. Today was to be the Blessing. He had worked so hard for the last century to be able to be worthy of this honour and now that it had almost arrived he could hardly contain himself.  
  
The Blessing, the coming of age of an elven archer, was not achieved without great dedication and hard work. To be called as an archer was to accept responsibility for the protection of hearth and home, to protect his people with skill and courage. To pull the bow well was to honour Mirkwood and its people.  
  
Not all were called to pull the bow, others sought different ways to serve their community and their King. All were respected in their own different ways. But to serve as an archer and a warrior was considered a high honour and it required a longer apprenticeship than did other skills.  
  
Legolas had known from an early age what he was destined to be. As an elfling he stumbled upon a secluded pool while in flight during a game that he and his friends were playing and had been given a vision that changed his life.  
  
***  
  
Many years before...  
  
Legolas had never seen this pool before, but as he could see the ball he'd been sent to retrieve, next to the water's edge near a large rock he did not think much of it. As he bent near the rock to pick up the ball, something pulled his glance towards his own reflection in the still mirror of the water's surface. He stared at his face as a breeze blew across the pond, his image rippled and distorted. When it cleared again, the face he saw was still his own but much older, he was no longer a twenty-two year old elfling but fully grown and standing proud, grasping a bow of Mirkwood, then dismounting a horse within a beautiful stone courtyard. Another ripple revealed a beautiful she-elf dressed all in white, gifting him a bow of finely carved white wood and a quiver full of light arrows. The water rippled again and he saw an image of himself shooting orc after orc after orc with that self same bow in a bid to protect a man, a dark, rough yet noble-looking man. The place bore ancient ruins and sparse trees that could not have been Mirkwood. No place in his father's kingdom resembled such a place. Yet another ripple and he saw himself in a keep under siege at night, he grabbed a shield threw it on the ground and slid down it, shooting arrows as he went. The slight breeze stopped and he heard Merelith's voice shout, "Where's the ball, Legolas!" as she ran up behind him. The spell had been broken and the pool now only reflected the trees above and the small bit of sky overhead.  
  
The young elfling had looked uncomprehendingly at his friend, which promptly caused her to ask, "What's wrong! You look like you've seen a ghost!" Normally Legolas was such a merry companion.  
  
Legolas had realised that perhaps it was best not to speak of this too quickly, before he had a chance to speak with his father, whom seemed to Legolas's young eyes as the fountain of all wisdom. "Nothing," he replied quickly to his friend. "Let's get back to the game! We're starting to gain and you don't want that!" Merelith immediately took off and Legolas followed her, putting the disturbing experience in the back of his mind until he had a chance to talk to his father.  
  
***  
  
Thranduil sat in his study deep within the cave portion of his halls, engrossed in a parchment that was telling him of the state of security in the southern region of his kingdom, when he heard an insistent tapping on the door. He bid his page to open it and see what was needed. Before the page could even announce who it was, Legolas burst through, evidently needing to talk to his father desperately.  
  
Legolas bowed quickly to his father and King and waited his permission to speak. Thranduil eyed his youngest son, so like him in the golden colouring, and yet so like his Lorien-bred mother in his slight features and temperament. Legolas's mother had died when their youngest had just been fourteen. She had been waylaid by Orcs and killed on route to visit her Lorien relations. The boy was their last child and born later than was usual for elves. He was the parting gift that Meresil had given Thranduil before passing onto the Halls of Mandos and he cherished the boy, probably more than he should. He gave leave for Legolas to speak.  
  
"Adar, could I have a moment of your time...alone." Legolas began hesitantly.  
  
Thranduil's interest was piqued and he said, "Of course, my son." motioning for the page to wait outside the doors to ensure that they were not disturbed. Waiting for the page to depart he noticed that his son looked pensive and unsure how to start, which was unusual because he was generally such a bright and open child.  
  
"What is it, Malthen nin." Thranduil said using the endearment that was reserved for private moments such as this.  
  
Legolas took a deep breath, "I've seen something."  
  
Thranduil looked uncomprehending, "What, What have you seen? Did somebody act as they should not." Anti-social behaviour among the Elves of Mirkwood was not usual, but occasion things did happen.  
  
"No, nothing like that," the young elfling sighed, "I guess I should begin at the beginning."  
  
"That is usually a good place to start," Thranduil said jokingly trying to lighten the mood, disturbed as he was by his youngest's troubled expression.  
  
Legolas did not seem to hear the comment and continued on, "Merelith, I and some others were playing Tig and I ran to retrieve the ball. It had travelled further than I had expected and up to this pool of water in a glade, I bent to retrieve the ball from the water's edge when I was caught by an image on the surface."  
  
A streak of recognition ran through Thranduil. He knew which pool Legolas had seen. He listened carefully as Legolas related what he had seen and his visage grew sadder as he waited for Legolas to finish his story.  
  
Legolas had noticed his father's changing expression as he told his tale and was immediately alarmed. "What it is, Adar! Have I done wrong? Should I not have told you?"  
  
Thranduil quickly straightened his face, the child was too perceptive for his own good, but in light of what he had just heard, perhaps it was just as well, Legolas would obviously need all the talents he could muster to fulfil his given destiny.  
  
"Malthen nin, there is nothing amiss. You need to not worry." Until you must, Thranduil thought with heaviness on his heart.  
  
"What does it mean, though."  
  
"What do you think it means, Malthen nin," Thranduil queried always encouraging his youngest son to use his intellect.  
  
"That I am called to be a warrior, an archer, sworn to protect my people."  
  
"Yes, I think it most definitely means that."  
  
"But what of the man that I saw in the vision. I did not recognise him. I know no men."  
  
"That, I think, will all come clear with the passage of time." Thranduil saw that Legolas accepted this idea and was content for now. Thranduil looked at his son, pride swelling his heart, "I am honoured to welcome another warrior into the family."  
  
Legolas looked at him with big earnest blue eyes, "I shall try to do my best, Sir. To honour you and to serve my people well." Thranduil's heart ached, his son looked so young, was so young to realise such responsibility. He got up from behind his desk and enclosed the young Elfling in a large bear hug, "I'm sure you will, Malthen nin, I'm sure you will. But we needn't think of you joining a roaming company just yet, perhaps you can wait until after evening meal." He gently teased his son and was pleased to see the return of the merry Elfling in place of the warrior he would be, all too soon for Thranduil's liking. "Why don't you go and get washed for meal and we shall talk more of this later" Legolas smiled and left closing the door behind him.  
  
Pain crossed Thranduil's face as he said to the closed door, "I will miss you, Malthen nin, my son." For he knew that Legolas's vision meant more than he had told the Elfling. Legolas would leave Mirkwood never to reside there again and face a great quest that would sorely test his considerable yet nascent talents. The Elven King could not see the outcome of such a quest and could only pray that the Valar would be kind and grant his son success. He could not burden his youngest with this knowledge, no one should ever know that much about his own future and Legolas was still only a child and not ready to be burdened with such knowledge. Thranduil knew that he could not change the destiny foreseen in the pool, but he could make sure that Legolas was as ready as he could possibly be to face the challenges of his fate, that he could and would give to his son. Whatever the outcome of the far away quest Legolas would be ready.  
  
***  
  
The morning of the Blessing...  
  
Legolas thought of the years of training and apprenticeship that he had endured, always driven by that vision that changed his life so many years ago, always striving to be worthy of that glimpse of the future and the prowess that he had showed. He wanted to be ready. His friends laughed and teased him about the extra time he put in on the training field and the shooting range and occasionally admonished him for when he would not forgive himself a tiny mistake in concentration or a slight misstep in sword play. They did not understand his dedication, possibly because he had never told anyone other than his father and his older brother, Elendril about his vision. But when he finally put the books of extra study away he was still as lively as he had ever been so they did not mind overly much.  
  
The years of study had been hard and had included much that was not normally part of warriors' training. The study of languages and other cultures was not usual among warriors, but Legolas simply accepted that it should be a part of his.  
  
He decided to get out of bed because it was obvious that he was going to get no more sleep this morning. He got dressed and when out to greet the morning, climbing onto a branch and making his way across the trees to his favourite thinking place, the glade of the pool where he had had his vision. Whenever he was weary, it helped him focus on the future and the purpose for which he was meant. He could always take solace in the trees there and gain comfort from the essence of the place. This morning he found that he simply needed to think about the future, about the past and let it settle within himself so that he could face the future with courage.  
  
As he entered the glade he stopped short, there was someone else in his glade, as he had come to think of it. As he drew closer he realised it was his father. "Adar?"  
  
"Legolas. Malthen nin" Thranduil turned to face him and Legolas noticed a strange light in his eyes.  
  
"Adar, is anything wrong?"  
  
Thranduil's eyes filled with emotion. That in itself was cause for alarm as the King was usually most noted for his reserve and ability to conceal what he felt. "I want you to know, Malthen nin, my son, how very proud I am of you this day. You've exceeded my expectations and will become a very fine warrior."  
  
Legolas swallowed the lump in his throat and marvelled at the uncommon and unusually effusive praise. Thranduil rarely gave unqualified approval and always encouraged Legolas to improve, drove him to excel. For him to say that Legolas had exceeded his expectations was beyond anything Legolas had ever known about his father, and frankly it unnerved him. "T-Thank you, Sir, I have always tried to please you and will try to honour the calling of warrior and archer with every fiber of my being." Legolas bowed his head with his hand on his heart.  
  
Thranduil reach out and lifted his son's head with his hand, "I know you will." his eyes solemn and staring into Legolas's. He looked pained, "My son, I think you are now ready to hear what I must tell you."  
  
A wave of fear washed over Legolas. He remained silent, expectant.  
  
Thranduil looked pensive, then seemed to come to some sort of decision, "Legolas, did you ever wonder why your training as a warrior took on a slightly different emphasis than your companions."  
  
"I have wondered on occasion," Legolas answered truthfully, "but I figured that it must have been because I was your son and being of royal blood made the training somewhat different."  
  
"That is partly true," Thranduil hedged, "But it is not the whole story. When you were a child and you had your vision and we talked of it. And I asked you what you thought it meant."  
  
Legolas nodded, "I said that it meant that I was called to be a warrior and defend my people."  
  
"Yes, but there were meanings that I did not tell you."  
  
Legolas stared at his father, "Father, what are you trying desperately not to say."  
  
Too clever by half. Ah, well! it will serve him well. Thranduil swallowed heavily, "Your destiny is to leave Mirkwood."  
  
The statement fell like a stone upon Legolas's heart, "What?! What are you saying, Adar? I do not wish to leave Mirkwood. Have I done anything to offend you? Are you sending me away?"  
  
Thranduil quickly answered realising that he was making a hash of this explanation, "NO! no! my son! Malthen nin!" his face distorted with concern, "I am not sending you away, I do not want you to go! But somehow I know that this is what the vision was saying those many years ago and this cannot be changed. I have done what I could to prepare you for this destiny. Driving you to excel, teaching you ideas and concepts so that you are better prepared for this path that you must travel. This quest you will undergo."  
  
"Why did you never tell me this before, why are you telling me now?" Legolas asked somewhat frenzied.  
  
"At first, you were too young to be burdened with this knowledge. Now you are coming of age, about to receive the Blessing and I thought you should receive it with the full knowledge of what is to come." Thranduil swallowed hard and simply looked at his son, watching the various emotions play across his face. Anger, sadness, denial all flowed unabated for a few minutes and a loss of innocence that pained Thranduil to see. He mourned for the merry child that he had helped to banish only to be replaced with a young warrior elf before him that he did not quite know.  
  
"I'm sorry, my son." Legolas was shocked to hear those words, Thranduil never apologised to anyone, "Have I done wrong by not telling you sooner. If it were up to me I would not have you ever leave Mirkwood, but I fear it is not."  
  
Legolas remained silent, still too shocked to speak. His mind was whirling. So long had his life been controlled by this vision. He thought he was called to defend Mirkwood, but apparently not. He loved his home and could not even imagine leaving it, yet still the vision had taken on new resonances and slowly he was coming to realise the truth of his father's words. He then looked at his father again, who was staring at him with barely restrained emotion.  
  
"You need not apologise, Adar. I understand why you did what you did." Legolas said in a tight controlled voice.  
  
The relief on his father's face was palpable but he strove to maintain a dignified demeanour.  
  
"Do you know when I am to leave?" A new tenor of calm resolve sounded in his son's voice.  
  
"No, that I do not. But I sense that it is not near just yet. When the time comes you will know."  
  
Legolas pondered these last words and then nodded in acceptance. Resolve and regret mingled in his blue eyes. He had always known that his life would be controlled by his vision but he was just now starting to realise how complete that control was going to be. He had awoken this morning with the excited joy of a youth, he was going to leave this glade knowing the price of dedication. He would still receive the Blessing with a joyous heart for it was his calling to be a warrior, but he could not help but feel a little regret for the innocent youth that he would leave behind in this secluded glade.  
  
Father and son left the glade, both having aged somewhat. Thranduil for the pain that he had had to give to his most beloved son and, Legolas for the childhood left behind once and for all.  
  
***  
  
The Blessing ceremony, held every ten years, was as old as many elves could remember. It was said that it reached back to the beginning of the Second Age, started in recompense for all the bloodletting among the Eldar of the First Age when they had been lead astray through their own arrogance by those who sought to destroy them and all that was good in Middle Earth. It was a simple ceremony in which each initiate, dressed in the greens and browns of a Mirkwood warrior, would step forward and the Lady Galadriel would incant the blessing upon each elf called.  
  
Legolas had never formally met the Lady Galadriel, as she was the Lady of the Golden Wood and did not travel as much between the realms as she had in times past. But it was her obligation to bless the warriors of all Elven Realms in Middle Earth since time out of mind, and it was not a obligation she took lightly.  
  
Legolas was third in line to receive the Blessing. He barely heard the first two elves receive theirs so hard was his heart pounding, then he realised that the Lady of the Golden Wood was standing right in front of him. Legolas stepped forward and kneeled on one knee holding his bow upright planted in the ground at his foot, then lifted his head to look upon the Lady of Light. He gasped ever so slightly for standing in front of him smiling serenely was the beautiful she elf from his vision. She smiled knowingly and he realised that she had seen his thoughts. She held his gaze and Legolas heard a voice, soft and musical inside his head. It is I who sent you that vision long ago. You were born to a special purpose, Legolas Thranduilion. I cannot see all ends, but you will come to good, that much I can see. Legolas looked at the Lady with full blue eyes and she smiled kindly and began to speak the formal incantation holding Legolas's gaze. "May you strive all the days of your life to fulfil your warrior's destiny."  
  
Legolas bowed his head and felt Galadriel's hands upon it, "May your mind be clear in purpose."  
  
At this she lifted his chin and touched his eyes, "May your sight see what needs to be seen."  
  
She then placed her hands over his as they held the bow at its grip, "May your limbs be strong and sure of purpose."  
  
Galadriel stepped behind him and placed a hand on either shoulders, saying, "May you never draw bow or raise knife except in the protection and service of others. You were born to fight against evil, but never with evil in your heart. May it know joy and love and service to others and in turn earn the respect of those you serve and who serve you."  
  
She put a hand on each of Legolas's temples, "Wear the warriors plaits with pride and may the Valar guide and protect you!" Legolas Thranduilion, you will do well, she said again in his mind. A bright light kissed his inner senses and glowed briefly, leaving him with a feeling of well-being and contentment.  
  
When he came back to himself, Galadriel had moved onto the next warrior- initiate. Legolas returned to his place in the rank and looked at his father and smiled. He saw many emotions fly across the King's face. Pride mixed with sorrow and no small amount of wonder as the father beheld his son, newly blessed as a warrior.  
  
The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur as did much of the celebration feast that always followed a Blessing. Legolas stood off to the side having just soaked up well-wishes from two rather pretty she-elves with a polite nod. Elendril came up, saying, "So many she-elves, you'll have to fend them off with a stick." Legolas started and looked with unseeing eyes. His brother looked at him curiously and said, "Muindoreg, where are you? You are miles away."  
  
Legolas shook himself, "I'm sorry, 'Dril. I was just thinking."  
  
Elendril laughed, "I'll say, when you cannot be bothered to properly soak up pretty feminine attention. That's not like you, Legolas."  
  
Legolas smiled, still somewhat distracted, "'Dril, can I ask you something?"  
  
"Anything," replied his older brother.  
  
"During the Lady's blessing she spoke inside my mind and said I was born to a special purpose and that I would do well. After, I saw a bright light and I felt contented and peaceful." Legolas looked at his older brother, "Is that commonplace during the ritual, did this happen to you?"  
  
Elendril looked at his little brother, amazement sitting in his eyes, "No, Muindoreg, it did not." He said slowly, "I do not recall it ever happening in my lifetime."  
  
Legolas fell silent pondering the gift of knowledge that the Lady had given him. Father was right, fate had marked him out and it was up to him to meet the challenge.  
  
A step was heard behind them, Thranduil appeared at their side apparently having overheard their conversation, and allowed himself one moment of public affection for his youngest as he stroked Legolas's golden hair, his eyes sorrowful, "Malthen nin! You have been given a gift by the Lady. Honour it and bear it well."  
  
Legolas looked into his father's eyes and he knew that when the time came he would be ready.  
  
*********************** 


End file.
